by Lewis Black
I love Lewis Black. I have such respect for him as a comedian. Not only is he hilarious, but he is educated. His humor is on a different level than the Blue Collar comedy guys, or George Lopez or Jeff Dunham; he makes his audience think.
I've read Black's other two books, and I have to say, this is not my favorite. "Me of Little Faith" was his best book. Part of the reason I don't love this book as much is because I really do love the Christmas season and still get that warm-fuzzy feeling when we turn the corner in December. I'm all about cooking and cocoa and wrapping presents (and getting up ungodly early Christmas morning to go cantor the 3 morning masses...but I love it, don't get me wrong...). So some of Black's ranting seems a little overly harsh. But I get it. And "I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas" is still funny. It is also surprisingly sentimental. That was unexpected, but nice in the midst of his ranting and extreme self-deprecation.
This book makes me think of a roommate I had in college who is Jewish and absolutely hates Christmas. I understand where she's coming from, but she wouldn't even let me hang nondenominational white lights around the dorm room. Still makes me sad.
Black is a great comedian and he knows how to write. He isn't like so many other comedians or celebrities who think, I can talk so I must be able to write a book. No. But Black gets it and his books are well worth reading. It may not be earth-shattering and it probably won't change your life, but it is a nice change of pace (especially if you're in the midst of studying for the GRE subject test...).